Untitled
by CEA
Summary: Albus Dumbledore reflects silently on the woman sleeping before him one quiet night.


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**Untitled  
****By CEA  
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God, she was beautiful, he thought, resting one weathered hand gently next to her on the bed. Her hair was out of its customary bun, flowing like a midnight waterfall across the purple-and-emerald bedclothes. Her pale skin was shining like silver in the cream glow from the crescent moon outside of their window. He smiled a wane smile, allowing himself for the vastly short moment to feel as happy as he could, watching her sleep. It was a simple thing, really, but in the times that were the simple things, while feeling infinitely simpler, were all the more rare and precious. The simple things were what he held on to those days.

And his love for her, he reflected with a bemused expression, really was quite simple, because it had taken very little effort to fall in love with her in the first place. The fact that she returned his affections not only now, but had for so many decades, was the greatest gift he could imagine receiving.

Softly, he traced the curve of her face with his right hand, allowing it to roam to her cloth-covered shoulder. He knew without a doubt that she would be embarrassed if she knew that he was intently watching her so, but at the moment she was dreaming, and he was content to leave her in that place for the time being. In dreams, he thought wistfully, we are whoever we wish to be in that moment; whatever we are in that second.

She made a slight noise in her sleep and rolled over slightly, and he was silent, wondering if she would awaken. She did not, and still he stayed silent, his mind drifting even as his hand unconsciously found and clasped her much smaller one tightly in his own. 57 years. He looked down at her in surprise. Had it really been that long? Doing the math again, he settled back against the chair, feeling somewhat nostalgic, but in a happy way. 57 years. A little over a third of his life, yes, but well over half of hers, and nevertheless, he could hardly now fathom a time without her. Smiling faintly, he could vividly picture her as she had been back when she was only just 18, fiery and brilliant and out to get the world. Which, he thought with an amused grin, was rather how she was now, truth be told. But she had been one of the most brilliant students he'd ever had, and as the years progressed and she became sure of herself and her worth, he'd fallen as surely for her as he knew he never should have in the first place.

But here he was now, with her, holding her hand in the dark of the night, silently studying her pale face.

His eyes found her face again as her hand tightened in his, and then her eyes sleepily blinked open, and he met their bright green. They widened, and she let go of his hand. Her hands fumbled on the nightstand for a second, before shoving her spectacles onto her face as she sat up and looked at him in slight confusion, lips pursed. "Albus? What time is it?"

"A little after two."

"What are you doing?"

"Watching you."

She did blush, as expected, and reached over to grab his hand, tugging him over to the bed. "It's late, Albus; come to bed."

He smiled faintly, standing and shrugging off his outer robe before pulling back the covers and lying next to her. Her eyes slid closed again and she pulled herself close to him. "You know, you really shouldn't stay up so late, love," she mumbled quietly into his chest. "You're already addlepated enough as it is."

He chuckled and wrapped an arm tenderly around her. "And miss you half-asleep?"

She swatted at him half-heartedly. He caught the hand in mid-air and kissed the palm, a feather-light touch. She smiled, though he couldn't see it. "It doesn't really matter, Albus," she admitted so softly he barely heard it. "For some reason, I love you anyway."

His smile relaxed as he looked down on her with adoration in his clear, baby-blue eyes. "Ah, Minerva, you always did have me."

"Damn straight."

He smiled again and closed his eyes, as she quickly drifted off again. "I love you, too," he whispered to her in the quiet still of the night.

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A/N: Yes, this is a sappy little one-shot just written so that I can happily have something new up that isn't going to suck the life out of me in the process. I have, believe it or not, been working on other fanfiction, albeit slowly. As it is, (somewhat) recently I updated _Like Mother Like Daughter_, and as it hasn't gotten many hits and/or reviews yet, I would appreciate it very much if people could please check it out. It's my favorite, of course, and I always feel really bad when people don't seem to be reading it. I hope I haven't lost anyone do to my lack of constant updates.

I also updated _Queen of the Ravens_, my lovely Marietta Edgecombe story, sometime before that, and I would also love it if anyone who hasn't would check it out. It's rather a hard story to pimp as she doesn't have a character listing :-P As for _Memories_... gah. I think I've made it rather clear that that story is just frickin' crazy. I am (very) slowly working on it, though, it's just really friggin' hard to write.

This fanfic goes out to any and all fans that are still with me up to this point, and any new ones I may ever snag. AD/MM forever :)

Review if you love Minerva McGonagall/Albus Dumbledore.

Love,  
**CEA**


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